


Memories

by AnotherStory



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-14 22:41:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18061556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnotherStory/pseuds/AnotherStory
Summary: Saizo and Asugi are doing some spring cleaning. Saizo finds old memories. Neither of them are okay.





	Memories

**Author's Note:**

> Angel ily thank you for help in inspiring this.

Saizo didn't know if it was his vision or his hands that were shaking. The old stiffened paper in his grip wouldn't stop quivering. With a long exhale he traced his fingers over the parchment. He'd forgotten he'd kept this- forgotten he'd kept _any_ of what was in this chest.

"Dad, what do you want done with all these old jars? Can I use 'em for jam?"

It took a moment to register the voice, and longer to process the question being asked. He shouldn't be this sluggish.

"Dad?" Asugi's eyes trail from his face to the paper and back again. "What are you looking at?"

A sigh escaped him. "Old memories." His thumb brushed over the outline of the tiny handprints decorating the page. "You got into my ink set when you were about seven months. Your mother thought it was adorable. She still has the other half of the paper, I think."

Asugi padded closer and knelt beside him, peering over his shoulder. "Huh. Really? I don't remember that."

"You were young." And small. He'd been so small and round. "We were leaving your deeprealm that day. You came running to me as best you could and put your hand right up against my palm. The ink stained your little print there for weeks."

Asugi watches him with an expression somewhere between curious and startled. He obviously wasn't used to Saizo talking so much. Saizo wasn't used to it either. So many words felt awkward in his mouth. "I remember doing that a lot, I think? Putting my hand to yours."

"Whenever I left," Saizo confirmed. "It was how we said goodbye." Was his voice trembling? Did he care? He raised a palm in Asugi's direction, showing off the worn lines. "You used to have to have to stand on your toes."

"...Oh."

He nodded absently, gazing at where his son's hands were folded in his lap. "They're the same size as mine now. You grew up fast...I missed so much, didn't I?"

Asugi turns to him in surprise. "I...Well, yeah, but you were fighting a war. It's not like you could stay."

"Don't make excuses for me. I know I hurt you." Saizo gingerly sets the parchment back down in the chest. "Your mother tried to teach me to be gentle when you were first born. How to hold you and carry you- you adored being carried. When she left...it's like I was my father with no wall to shield you. That was wrong of me. I...I raised you to fear me. That was so..."

Asugi opened his mouth and made a choked sound. He closed it again, then repeated the action a few times. He seemed shocked. Tears pricked at his eyes and Saizo could see the way he was blinking to hold them back.

Hesitantly he reached over to wipe the wetness away. Asugi flinched against him. "...You thought I meant to hit you." It wasn't a question.

"...You have before," his child whispered, still tense under his touch. "When I made you angry."

Saizo moved slowly to cup his face. Tears dripped from Asugi's eyes and left wet lines over his knuckles. "...What did I do to you?" he gasps, voice cracking. It had to have been years since he'd even held him, let alone given him comfort.

"Dad," Asugi rasped, "you're crying."

That explains the way his eyes were stinging. He didn't bother wiping the tears away. "I'm so sorry."

Asugi's arms are shaking as he takes one of Saizo's hands and presses his own against it, palm to palm. It doesn't feel quite like forgiveness; that was something Saizo would have to earn. But it sent a warmth through him nonetheless. "...I'm going to take the scrap out to burn," he whispers.

"Stay safe," is all Saizo can manage to reply. It feels like more than he'd ever given.


End file.
